The Doc, The Cop, The Man, and The Boy
by FreudFreak
Summary: After losing Calvin, Olivia seeks help from a reasonable source... at an unreasonable hour. Post-ep for "Rescue"
1. Chapter 1

Post-ep for Rescue.

(Don't own, don't sue, constructive criticism more than welcome, etc)

It was late, she knew, far too late to be knocking on Huang's door. But she was out of ideas and out of her bloody mind. With grief, yes—Calvin's portrait screamed in her mind, overcoming her vision, taking her breath away. But she was also plagued by an insistent existential angst. Why (the fuck) had the boy been given to her, only to be taken away? How (the fuck) did she end up alone at 52 years old? And what (the fuck) was the point? Of anything?

She felt it under her skin, a dancing restlessness, and in the clammy sweat under her arms. She had exhausted her usual arsenal of emotional anesthetics (pacing, inane television, too much Chinese food) and was searching for the bottle of vodka she kept around for guests when she caught herself. That had been her mother's drug. Her mother's downfall. And she knew, she _knew,_ that she was not her mother.

So even though it was late, she fished Huang's card out of her wallet ("Call if you ever need me, Liv," he'd said) and used the Bureau's software to pull up his address. It was a fudge of protocol, she knew, but she had crossed so many lines in the last weeks that it didn't feel like it mattered. Just another red flag for her file.

The drive passed in a blur, traffic lights and yellow cabs bright in the semi-darkness of the city. She stopped in front of a brownstone, checking the address against the scrap of paper she'd brought with her.

Olivia had to knock twice, shivering in the late-night wind, before she got an answer. The bolts clicked and the door swung open to reveal a tall Caucasian man dressed in a T-shirt and scrub bottoms, a man who was definitely not George Huang.

"Can I help you?" he asked sleepily.

Olivia blanched, horrified. "I'm so sorry, I must have the wrong address. I'm looking for George Huang?"

The man rubbed the back of his head with the palm of his hand. "George?"

Olivia heard footsteps inside the apartment, a door softly clicking shut.

"David, honey? Who's there?"

George Huang joined the man (David, presumably) at the brownstone's door, rubbing his eyes.

"Liv?"

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

"Liv?" the doctor repeated. "What's wrong?"

Olivia hesitated. She'd come all this way without having the words to explain, without even knowing what she wanted Dr. Huang to do or say. "Doc, I'm… I'm having some trouble. I know it's late and I'm sorry-"

He cut her off. "No, no come in." He ushered her through the door and shut it behind her. "Liv, this is my partner David. David, Olivia's a friend from work. You can go back to bed, I've got it."

David planted a bleary kiss on Huang's forehead. "All right, love. Nice to meet you, Olivia." He nodded at her and padded back into the depths of the apartment, closing a door behind him.

"I didn't know you were in a relationship," said Olivia, surprise momentarily distracting her.

"We've been together for three years now," said Huang absently. "He's a good man." He yawned and blinked, looking at her. "But I'm betting you didn't come to my home at three in the morning to discuss my romantic bliss."

She shook her head wryly. "Not that I'm not thrilled for you, of course."

"Of course," he quirked a grin. "Can I make you some tea?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Huang led her through a darkened hallway into a small kitchen, decorated in light woods and soft blues. Olivia sat at a wooden barstool, watching as her colleague pulled a grey kettle from a cabinet, filled it from the sink, and set it on the stove.

"We have all sorts of tea, but I think the only decaf we have is peppermint and chamomile." He rummaged for a moment in a drawer. "There's also a decaf chai mix if you'd like something a bit more substantial.

"Chai would be great, thanks."

He pulled out two red packets and turned on the stove, then settled against the counter to watch the steady flame under the kettle.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Olivia shifted restlessly on the barstool. She felt a hitch of guilt for pulling Huang out of his comfortable bed. A burn of shame for her inability to deal with her own goddamn feelings. But these sensations were overpowered by the roar of emotion coursing though her, jostling at her nerves and pounding at her heart. Her body could not contain her grief, her regret, her terror that she'd lived her life all wrong. She grasped for a way to let the doctor know what she felt, what she needed, but came up with nothing.

She was grateful, then, when Huang broke the silence. "Liv?"

Her voice was soft, choked. "Yeah?"

"Is this about Calvin?"

His tone was gentle, but the sound of the boy's name brought a lump to her throat. She nodded, unable to speak.

"Did something happen?"

She took a breath to steady herself. "His father signed a form giving custody to his grandparents. They came to the precinct and—" she shook her head, biting down on her lower lip. "They came and took him away."

"That must have been awful. For both of you."

"He didn't want to go," she whispered. "He was screaming, begging me not to let them take him. I was holding him; I remember his hair against my hand. But they took him out of my arms and—" she could no longer continue.

"Oh, Liv." She looked up and found Huang's compassionate eyes fixed on hers. "I'm so sorry." Unable to bear his sympathy, she turned away.

As she sat, suppressing sobs, she heard the water come to a boil, heard a pouring and mixing and the gentle clink of a spoon. After a moment, Huang came up beside her holding the tea.

"Come on. Let's sit down."

He handed her a warm blue mug and took her by the elbow, leading her out of the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor's living room was dark, lit only by the soft rays spilling from the kitchen. Olivia didn't mind. She liked the feeling of safety, the impression of intimacy.

Huang sat on a plush white couch and patted the space beside him. "Sit."

She sat, sipped her tea, and sighed, comforted by the drink's warmth and sweetness. Huang took a taste, then spoke.

"May I make a suggestion?"

"Hmm?" She rested her elbows on her knees, savoring the feel of the mug in her hands.

"Stop trying to hold it back, Liv."

She turned to face him, finding his eyes in the dim light. "Hold what back?"

"Your grief. Your anger, your fear. You're trying to keep your emotions bottled up, trying to prevent yourself from experiencing the true depth of your feelings. But you can't, can you? You're losing control?"

Her lips trembled. "You're right. But I'm afraid."

He put his tea down and took her hand, squeezing comfortingly. "Afraid of what?"

"I'm afraid that if I let myself feel, I… I won't be able to make it stop." She slipped from his grasp and put her mug on the coffee table, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes and swallowing thickly.

The doctor put a broad hand on her back, steadying her. "But that's why you came here, isn't it? Because you know I can help you?"

At that, she began to sob in earnest, great shudders wracking the whole of her body. Huang turned and pulled her into an embrace, pressing her head to his shoulder.

"All right," he murmured. "I've got you."

He held her, absorbing her sobs and letting her tears soak into his pajama shirt. She said nothing, crying as quietly as she could as Huang cradled her head and gently stroked her hair.

After a time, she quieted. She sniffled. She pulled away.

"Come on," the doctor said. "Let's get you to bed."


End file.
